“Will no one come in?” she asked.
“No one; but for all that I recommend you to keep calm,” retorted the other, who suspected that Grace wished to make a scene, and somewhat resented the infliction.
“It’s all finished between Reggie and me. He’s thrown me over like a worn-out tie; he’s got somebody else.”
“You’re well rid of him, my dear.”
Miss Ley’s sharp eyes were intent on Mrs. Castillyon’s face, seeking therein to read the inner secret of her heart.
“You don’t care for him any more, do you?”
“No, thank God, I don’t. Oh, Miss Ley, I know you won’t believe me, but I am going to try to turn over a new leaf. During these last months I’ve seen Paul so differently. Of course, he’s absurd and pompous and dull—I know that better than anyone—but he is so kind; even now he loves me with all his heart. And he’s honest. You don’t know what it means to be with a man who’s straight to the very bottom of his soul. It’s such a relief and such a comfort!”
“My dear, it surely requires no excuses to find good qualities in one’s husband. You show a state of mind which is not only laudable, but highly original and ingenious.”
“It makes it so much harder for me,” answered Mrs. Castillyon, woebegone and tragic; “I feel such an awful cad. I can’t bear that he should trust me implicitly when I’ve behaved in such a disgusting way; I can’t bear his kindness. You guessed before that I was tortured by the desire to make a clean breast of it, and now I can’t resist any longer. This morning, when he was so sweet and gentle I could hardly restrain myself. I can’t go on; I must tell him and get it over. I would rather be divorced than continue with this perpetual lie between us.”
Miss Ley observed her for some while calmly.